Love
by ChuckBass
Summary: I made that decision, but I didn’t make the decision to love you.


**_Love_**

* * *

When do you know when a simple crush turns to love? Is it only after they've hurt you so much that you still would readily forgive them? Or when you don't see them for a day and your world seems to crumble? Or could it just be when you're lucky enough to be on the receiving end of their smile?

In the beginning, love seems so simple. You like someone, and maybe even someone likes you. A few dates come and go and then things seem to go deeper. But this wasn't the way for me. Oh no. No one likes me; I'm just too different for them. Strange, eccentric. No one wants these kinds of things in their girlfriend. But that is what I am.

But how do I know what I am feeling is love? Is it the fact that I cannot stop thinking of him? Is it the fact that my breathing hitches when I see a picture of him? Or could it be the fact that he understands me so well?

I remember reading something, though I cannot remember where, that described my thoughts so well. _"I've been trying to remember when it was. When did a schoolgirl crush turn to love? Real love. The kind that chews at your guts. The kind that won't let you sleep or eat. The kind where you live solely for a glimpse of someone's smile -- and where you die a little every day as you realize that his smile -- and the light in his eyes -- is reserved for someone else. Not for you. Never -- for you."_ Sadly, I know that his smile is never for me. Never was, never will be.

But so many have told me that "the hardest thing you can do is watch the one you love, love somebody else". How true that is. I've watched from the sidelines, watching as he gives his heart to someone else. . . and that someone else is _not_ me.

My heart has been broken and fixed so many times that I _know_ that there are pieces missing. I've freely given them out but none have been returned. I bet that they're laying in the ground somewhere, footprints evident on the red surface. You know, I've stopped caring what has happened to those pieces, because I know that I am never going to get those pieces back.

Who do you turn to when the only one you can trust is the one who made you cry? I've asked myself that question so many times, yet I don't seem to have an answer. I keep searching for it yet the answer evades me. Maybe I should just stop trying. I might just be better off. All I know is that my theory on love can be summarized in one simple phrase: _"I Love You" is 8 letters long. Then again, so is bullshit._

I have no control over whom I love and cannot love, I believe that everyone I have ever met was determined by the Fates; but it was _I_ who decided to become one of your friends. _I_ made that decision, but _I_ didn't make the decision to love you.

_Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you was beyond my control._ I just wish you would realize that.

When do you know when a simple crush turns to love? Is it only after they've hurt you so much that you still would readily forgive them? Or when you don't see them for a day and your world seems to crumble? Or could it just be when you're lucky enough to be on the receiving end of their smile?

In the beginning, love seems so simple. You like someone, and maybe even someone likes you. A few dates come and go and then things seem to go deeper. But this wasn't the way for me. Oh no. No one likes me; I'm just too different for them. Strange, eccentric. No one wants these kinds of things in their girlfriend. But that is what I am.

But how do I know what I am feeling is love? Is it the fact that I cannot stop thinking of him? Is it the fact that my breathing hitches when I see a picture of him? Or could it be the fact that he understands me so well?

I remember reading something, though I cannot remember where, that described my thoughts so well. _"I've been trying to remember when it was. When did a schoolgirl crush turn to love? Real love. The kind that chews at your guts. The kind that won't let you sleep or eat. The kind where you live solely for a glimpse of someone's smile -- and where you die a little every day as you realize that his smile -- and the light in his eyes -- is reserved for someone else. Not for you. Never -- for you."_ Sadly, I know that his smile is never for me. Never was, never will be.

But so many have told me that "the hardest thing you can do is watch the one you love, love somebody else". How true that is. I've watched from the sidelines, watching as he gives his heart to someone else. . . and that someone else is _not_ me.

My heart has been broken and fixed so many times that I _know_ that there are pieces missing. I've freely given them out but none have been returned. I bet that they're laying in the ground somewhere, footprints evident on the red surface. You know, I've stopped caring what has happened to those pieces, because I know that I am never going to get those pieces back.

Who do you turn to when the only one you can trust is the one who made you cry? I've asked myself that question so many times, yet I don't seem to have an answer. I keep searching for it yet the answer evades me. Maybe I should just stop trying. I might just be better off. All I know is that my theory on love can be summarized in one simple phrase: _"I Love You" is 8 letters long. Then again, so is bullshit._

I have no control over whom I love and cannot love, I believe that everyone I have ever met was determined by the Fates; but it was _I_ who decided to become one of your friends. _I_ made that decision, but _I_ didn't make the decision to love you.

_Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you was beyond my control._ I just wish you would realize that.

* * *


End file.
